The One Left Holding the Bag
by meg-leighleigh15
Summary: "...I could have been interviewing some success story, but I'm here, getting attacked by thugs. Why me!" She shouted to the sky, stamping her foot.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own.

Soo…I should be working on the other fics I've started, but that would take the fun out of everything. So I'm going to start a new fic that I'll hit writer's block with.

I don't know where this idea came from; I just was thinking one day and it hit me. Yes, this has two OCs, but the story doesn't just circle around them. Mostly canon couples, some…different, but I'll tell you when we get there. And there might be couples with my OCs later on, but the key words are 'might' and 'later on'. I'm just warning those who hate stories like these upfront so you don't have to waste your time flaming me.

So enjoy. Review if you want, flame if you need to, the choice is all up to you.

(Note: None of the Disney stories have happened. So any villain that's supposed to be dead aren't…at least not yet. *laughs evilly*)

* * *

"Are you sure you really want to stay with me while I do this assignment?" Vivian West asked skeptically and her younger sister of fifteen, Olly, rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Viv, I'm positive. This is so much more exciting than staying with Father," Olly replied. Vivian sighed and looked out the train window as the countryside flashed by.

"You do know that Fantasia City has some of the worst gang crimes and bootlegging incidents that can equal other big cities, right?" Vivian asked.

"Then why did you take this assignment?" Vivian sighed as she thought back to the day when her boss, Mr. O'Reilly, told her that she would be taking on the Fantasia City gang troubles.

"I didn't have a choice. And anyway, New York was getting a little dull," she replied lightly. Olly stared at the twenty-four year old, searching for any sign of feeling.

"Fine then; I'm perfectly fine with going with you. If you get to go into danger, then I want to, too," the teenager declared and Vivian sighed. This would certainly prove to be an interesting autumn of 1925.

* * *

"Ha; win again," a man with long coppery hair tied back in a ponytail proudly declared as the other three men groaned and threw their cards on the table. He grabbed all the money in the center while smirking in triumph.

"You must think you're such the bee's knees, don't ya, Adam?" The light-brown haired man grumbled before reshuffling the deck of cards.

"Don't be such a wet-blanket, Phillip. So how's your dame settling in?" The most muscular man with orange hair asked and Phillip shrugged.

"Pretty good. That whole deal with Maleficent didn't help. Aurora wanted to go back to the country, but I had to remind her about the _job_." All the men nodded as Phillip dealt the cards.

"Next time we got a run, Belle offered to have Aurora come and stay with her. Belle still doesn't like what we do, but she'd be willing to have any one of you're girls come over," Adam finished, addressing the whole group.

"Well, everyone, except Herc here. Still haven't found a girl yet?" an Asian-American man asked and Hercules flushed slightly before scowling at him.

"Not looking. Still can't believe Mulan actually thought about actually _dating_ you, Shang," he replied and it was Shang's turn to scowl.

"Well I hope you all have enjoyed your bull session, boys, because we've got a shipment to catch," a new voice joined men. Everyone turned to see a blond man leaning against the doorway.

"Hey Smithy, where's it this time?" Adam asked excitedly and 'Smithy', known better as John Smith, smirked at his excitement.

"Down at the docks. Boss and Jungle Man are already down there."

"Hope the tykes don't join us tonight. Don't want any of them to get hurt if _they _decide to show up," Phillip muttered under his breath as the men filed out of their hang-out.

"Don't worry, Phil; Boss told 'em to do something else. Now quit jabbering and get a move on. 'Member last time we were late. The Boss had a fit," John finished and all the men shuddered before trooping out the door.

* * *

"Captain, we just got word that a shipment of alcohol coming in along the coast. Do you want me to contact the Coast Guard?" Captain Phoebus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yes yes, go ahead. Get a squad and go to the coast. Don't harm any of them; I want them caught alive. Only fire if fired at. Gaston," he called to a muscular man who was leaning back in chair. When he heard his name being called, he straightened up. "I want you make sure the coast is free of any pedestrians." Phoebus turned and grabbed his gun and hat and preceded to the door, making orders all the way along. When Gaston saw the coast was clear, he made his way to the telephone.

"Hello, Operator, I'd like to speak with Commander Rourke." Gaston waited impatiently, tapping his foot in a hurried beat.

"_Lyle Rourke speaking," _a voice came onto the line.

"Rourke, just got word that there's a shipment at docks. Better get there before the cops get there."

"_Is the other gang there already?"_ Commander Rourke asked and Gaston told him of the situation.

"_Good work, Gaston. I knew there was a reason we hired you," _Rourke drawled. _"We'll keep in touch."_ And with that, the former mercenary hung up the phone. Gaston sighed, not being quick enough to ask about the money before the conversation ended.

"Officer," Captain Phoebus barked, poking his head back into the doorway. "Why are you just standing there? Hurry up." Gaston scrambled for his hat and gun and walked briskly out the door.

* * *

"Aurora, dear, please stop fretting. Our boys will be just fine," Belle told the worried blond for the hundredth time.

"I know Belle, it's just, it's been difficult ever since…" Aurora trailed off and Belle immediately knew what she was talking about.

"You know Rose, the more you let Maleficent know that you're terrified of her and this place, then she's going to hold it over you," came the reasonable reply from a slender brunette. Aurora nodded and looked over at the British woman.

"I know, I know, Jane, but-"

"Please, can we stop talking about this? Pocahontas, grab the wine and some glasses; we all need some cheering up," Mulan, a young Asian-American woman called to Pocahontas, an equally young Native American woman.

"It's in the left cupboard," Belle called before going back to comforting Aurora. Pocahontas came back out with six glasses and a small bottle of wine.

"Who's the sixth person?" Jane asked. Just then, the front door opened and a lovely woman of Romani descent and emerald eyes entered.

"Esmeralda," Aurora and Belle answered in unison and said person looked confused.

"Don't worry, dear, just take a glass," Jane said as she offered Esmeralda a glass. Esme took it gratefully as she sat next to Pocahontas.

"You look like you've had a fun day," Mulan said sarcastically. The young woman narrowed her eyes and took a gulp of wine.

"Some fellow from the Bible Belt had his eyes on me when I was coming outta the Speakeasy. He gave me the heebie-jeebies. I'm so glad I don't stand on the corners like Meg does. Being a hoofer is enough for me," she finished. There was silence for a while before Jane spoke up.

"I heard that some reporter from New York was coming to stay here in Fantasia City," she said, a hint of disgust in her voice. The other women made a face. Reporters in Fantasia were just as bad as the cops.

"How'd you hear that?" Pocahontas asked and Jane gave a shrug.

"Her sister is going to be in my class. I heard that their father is a real business tycoon, even knows some of them bigwigs. I really wonder what the daughters of a rich man are going to be doing here."

"Well, at least the reporter's female. Any other time, it's a man doing the nosing around," Belle said thoughtfully. Just then, the phone rang and all the women jumped. Belle quickly got up and answered.

"'Lo?...Yes, this is Belle Badeau speaking….Are they alright?...Good, we'll be over in a jiffy. Thanks Peter." And with that, Belle hung up the phone.

"Are they alright? No one got hurt, did they?" Aurora asked, worry laced in her tone. Belle gave a small smile and shook her head.  
"No more than the usual injuries. No, their fine; they're just at Doctor Sweet's, getting checked over. Why don't we all go on over and make sure they don't get into any more trouble."

* * *

Lyle Rourke slammed his fist on the table. Not only did they not take any of Trouillefou's gang out, they were nearly arrested by the police. The only comforting thought was that Trouillefou didn't get any of the shipment.

"Sir, Grimhilde Handsel wants to speak to you," Helga Sinclair, Rourke's right-hand man, so to speak, said as she entered the small room. Rourke raised an eyebrow in surprise. Grimhilde Handsel was the daughter of one of the oldest families in Fantasia City, and one of the most important, too.

"Alright, send her in." A beautiful woman in her thirties walked into the room with a certain air around her, almost like royalty. Helga closed the door as Grimhilde sat down.

"Commander Rourke, I was surprised when you didn't come to the gala tonight. I was looking for some company other that those stuffy old business men and my brat of a step-daughter. Then I heard that there was a little trouble down on the coast. You wouldn't have happened to be there, would you?" she asked, though the look that she gave told him that she knew otherwise. Rourke leaned back in his chair and put his hands up.

"Well, Grimhilde, my dear, I can't tell a lie. Though I'll have you know that we didn't start the trouble. It was that damn Trouillefou and his gang of trouble that started it. I do have to ask now, why are you here?" Grimhilde smirked and took out a cigarette.

"I thought you might like to know that I have a…_friend_ that's heard of your plight with Clopin Trouillefou. He's actually interested in helping you," she said as she lit her cigarette. Rourke leaned forward and studied Grimhilde.

"What kind of friend is this guy to you?" Rourke asked, suspicious. Everyone knew that women of the Handsel family, save Grimhilde's step-daughter, Snow White, liked to get involved with witchcraft. Grimhilde pouted a little before smirking again, this time with a look of pure deviousness.

"I met him in New Orleans, in the French Quarters. He practices voodoo, and is quite good at it, too. He already has an idea of how to get rid of your…_problem_." Rourke folded his arms across his chest and sat back in his chair again.

"What's his name?" Grimhilde smiled, and an actual smile at that, pleased that she could be of help for Rourke.

"Doctor Facilier, better known as The Shadow Man. I believe he's already arrived in Fantasia tonight."

* * *

Olly grunted as she shoved her way through the crowd, trying to catch up to Vivian. This crowd almost reminded her of New York. She felt a pang of home sickness at that thought.

"Golly, Viv, can you walk any faster?" she asked after caught up with her sister.

"Probably. Oh, remind me to phone Father when we get to our apartment. He's probably wigging out at the thought of us being so far away from him." Olly nodded and looked around. The streets were crowded and busy, even at eight o'clock in the evening.

"This place sure is busy," she commented. Just then, a group of women entering a decent sized building caught her eye. She cocked her head as she read the sign on the door.

"Olly, what are you looking at?" Vivian stopped where Olly stood.

"They have a doctor's office," Olly murmured and Vivian rolled her eyes.

"'Course they do; this is a city after all." Olly shook her head and glared at Vivian.

"No, what I mean is, they have a doctor's office that might need _assistances_," she said, stressing the last part of the sentence.

"Don't get your hope up, darling, your still pretty young and have no experience what so ever," Vivian said gently, trying not to crush Olly's idea.

"Eh." That was the response Vivian got, meaning Olly hadn't even listened to her.

"Come on, you're starting school tomorrow, so let's getta move on." Olly snapped out of her daze and glared at Vivian.

"You didn't tell me I was starting school _tomorrow_," she accused and the older girl shrugged her shoulders.

"You didn't ask." And soon the two were bickering; unaware of the strange glances they got from the people around.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, so I decided to use Commander Rourke as the main bad guy just because, in my opinion, he's one of the best villains. You all can disagree with me on that, it's cool. I had, HAD to us the new villain from _The Princess and the Frog_. He's so cool!

Grimhilde is actually the name of the Wicked Queen from Snow White, at least the fairytale version. I really wish that Disney gave some of their characters last names instead of me having to go hunting suitable ones. *sighs irritably* Alright, I'm done. I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter.

1920's Slang 

**Bootleg**- Illegal Alcohol

**Bee's Knees**- An extraordinary person

**Wet Blanket**- A killjoy

**Dame**- Female

**Bull Session**- Male talkfest

**Bible Belt**- Area in the South and Midwest where Fundamentalism flourishes (I bet we all know which character this is. Starts with and F and ends with a Rollo)

**Heebie-Jeebies**- the jitters

**Speakeasy**- A bar selling illegal alcohol

**Hoofer**-A dancer


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Uhh…Sorry about the long update but things happened like…school. My teachers were trying to kill be before I move on to my next grade. But schools over now. That and dance was picking up. Recital just finished! *does happy dance* And then laziness struck…really sorry about that.

So I'm going to take a gander that all who have read the first chapter has liked it. I don't usually ask for reviews, and it won't be a regularly thing, but…Please, please, tell me what you think. I don't want to be writing anything that people find offensive or anything like that.

Okay, I'm done with that. Here's chapter two.

* * *

"Olly, are you done yet?" Vivian called down the hall of their apartment. The apartment itself wasn't huge, but it wasn't crowded either.

"In a minuet! Jeeze, don't be a Mrs. Grundy." Soon after, Olly walked out, all dressed and ready to go. Vivian looked her over and raised an eyebrow.

"It took you long enough. So, I'll walk you to the school and then you'll be on your own. Please, don't do anything that will get you in trouble." Olly scoffed as she walked out the door.

"Nice to know I have your support."

Olly took a deep breath to settle her nerves before pushing the door to her classroom open. She wasn't one to get nervous when being introduced to new people; she was the daughter of a major business man, for crying out loud. But never in all her life had she ever started at a new school.

"I hope you all remembered to do your geometry homework as I'm going to be collecting it," a young British woman, Miss Porter, Olly assumed, instructed the class. Just as Olly was going to make her presence known, a boy with fiery red hair and hazel eyes raised his hand.

"_Yes_, Peter, what is it _now_?" Miss Porter asked, exasperation tinting her tone.

"I forgot to do it."

"Isn't that a surprise. I mean, what in the world was so much more important than your homework?" Peter leaned back in his seat and shrugged.

"Well, last night, there was some action going on by the coast and naturally, I went to go see and-"Peter stopped after a boy with golden blond hair poked him in the back. Miss Porter studied the boy before sighing.

"Fine Peter, you've gotten a tardy and will have afternoon detention so you can make up that missed assignment." Peter glared at the teacher and when her back was turned, stuck his tongue out at her. Olly snorted, causing all attention to be brought to her.

"Ah, you must be Olivette West," Miss Porter said and Olly wrinkled her nose.

"I prefer Olly, ma'am." Miss Porter nodded before gesturing her forward to stand by her.

"Class, we have a new student. Please make her feel welcome and all the usual things a teacher says with a new student. Olly, there's a seat behind Alice Liddell. Alice, raise your hand." A petite blond raised her hand and Olly moved to the seat behind her.

"Alright now, open your books to page seventy and Snow, will you please start reading?" Olly looked around the room and suddenly wished Vivian was here with her.

* * *

"Excuse me?" Vivian tried to get the attention of the lady behind the counter. The older woman glanced up and put a hand over the phone.

"In a minuet," she told Vivian before returning to her conversation.

"Yeah, I'm here Ida. Anyway, he was telling me that…" Vivian sighed in frustration and leaned against the counter and looked around for someone helpful. Maybe coming to the police station for information wasn't the smartest idea. Just as the thought of leaving entered her mind, the woman behind the counter hung up the phone.

"Now, what can I do for you?" she asked monotonously.

"Hi, I'm Vivian West, from the New York Trumpet and I was looking for-"the lady held up her hand and cut Vivian's well practiced speech.

"And you're here to ask some questions. Yeah, I've heard that one all the time. I can't help you." Before Vivian could protest, the phone rang again.

"Fantasia City Police Department. Marta? I just got off the phone with Ida…" Vivian gave a groan of annoyance and banged her head against the counter.

"Is old Packard giving you trouble?" Someone asked and Vivian jumped. She turned to address the speaker, who turned out to be a man in his early twenties with ebony hair and blue eyes.

"Yes. But I'll just find help somewhere else," Vivian said, not wanting to trouble the man. He gave a kind smile and pointed at his uniform.

"I think I can help." He turned to Ms. Packard, a small smile playing on his lips. Packard had just gotten off the phone when she looked up.

"Vanderbilt, shouldn't you be on patrol?"

"Just got off. And how are you today, my lovely lady?" Packard snorted and rolled her eyes.

"You're awfully cheerful today. Stop it before you infect the whole place. What do you want, Eric?" Eric fended hurt before smiling again.

"This patient young woman," here he motioned to Vivian, "Would like to speak to someone about information over…" Questioning looks were given and Vivian took that as her chance to speak.

"Over the bootlegging. I don't need names; I just need the basic facts." Packard studied the two young adults for a moment before relenting and gesturing to Eric.

"I'm going to regret this. Fine, Eric, take her back. If there's any trouble, it's on your head." Vivian smiled in relief and thanked her several times before following Eric.

"So you're a journalist, huh?" Eric asked as the head back towards some small offices.

"For about a year now. How long have you been on the force?" Vivian asked, pulling out her notebook. Eric noticed this and gave a laugh.

"You're honestly not going to ask me any questions about the bootlegging, are you?" Vivian flushed guiltily and put her notebook away.

"Anyway, I've been an officer for Fantasia City for about two years now. My wife, Ariel, and daughter, Melody moved here from a small town in Pennsylvania," Eric said, pulling out a black and white photo of a beautiful woman in her early twenties and a little girl. Vivian smiled as she studied the picture.

"Your wife and daughter are beautiful, but if you don't mind me saying, your wife is awfully young." Eric shrugged as he held a door open for Vivian.

"Ariel was sixteen and I was eighteen when we married. Our little girl just turned four." Vivian nodded and smiled at Eric.

"Well, at least if writing about bootlegging doesn't work, I can always write about the families of Fantasia City. I'm sure my boss would love _that_." The two young adults chuckled before coming to a stop.

"Well, Ms. West, this is the Captain's office. I hope finding information goes smoothly for you." Vivian smiled and nodded her head in thanks before she turned for the door. "But, Ms. West, I warn you, people in this city don't like strangers sticking their nose in their business. And many people in this city are violent." Vivian paled slightly before giving Eric a small smile.

"Don't worry, Officer, I lived in New York City my whole life. I think I can handle myself."

* * *

Olly sighed as she flipped another page in her book. Eating lunch alone was not a good idea. Olly closed her book and looked around the outside eating area. A number of students had gone home for lunch, but there were a few that had stayed. Some of the few that had stayed included that one girl she sat behind this morning, Alice, and some of her friends. Olly decided that taking the antisocial route wasn't going to work for her and gathered her things. As she made her way over to Alice's group, she passed a small trio of boys sitting around. She identified one of the boys as that Peter fellow also from this morning.

"…Anyway, I was thinking about skipping out on detention today. Yeah, it's a real waste of time. Hey Pinoke, butt me. So I overheard Smithy saying the Boss wanted us to help with a shipment." Olly stopped walking and stared at the quartet, curious as to whom 'Smithy' and 'the Boss' were.

"Did he say what the Boss needs us to do?" the tall blond that sat behind Peter asked. Olly could have sworn she detected a slight Brooklyn accent when he spoke.

"Nope. Don't know from nothing." Peter took a drag from his cigarette, his eyes wandering over to the light brown haired girl sitting next to Alice. Olly shrugged, deciding she wasn't going to get any more information and started to walk off.

"Hey, Sweetheart," someone called after her. Olly turned around and saw that it was Peter who had called.

"Excuse me?" Olly raised an eyebrow at the redhead, almost daring him to continue.

"Tell me now, doll…Do all rich folks like to eavesdrop on other's conversations?" Olly felt her face go on fire, but she narrowed her green eyes in annoyance.

"Depends on your term of eavesdropping. You all were talking _awfully_ loud. A rich, city girl like me can't _not_ hear you," Olly responded, playing the same game Peter was playing.

"Aw, shoulda known you're just like all the other folks that come this way." Peter took another drag on his cigarette.

"Really? How's that?" Peter put out his cigarette and stood up. He walked over to Olly and smirked.

"They think that the rules don't apply to them. They think that just because they have more money means that they're better than all of the rest of us. Kinda fits your description, huh?" Olly's face reddened with anger as she jabbed a finger at Peter's chest.

"Well, that's funny, because you fit the description of the worthless _trash _back in New York. Angry at the people _born_ into a rich family because they have a better life than them. Rude to everyone so they can hide their bitterness." Olly stepped back and smirked triumphantly as she left Peter speechless.

"I'm…trash? Oh, really, Sweetheart, 'cause that's sort of like the pot calling the kettle black. You're like the princess of scum." Olly rolled her eyes as stepped forward.

"Uh-huh, I'm scum. I'll admit it. My father is someone that doesn't care about anyone other than himself, including his family. But at least I have a future, unlike you. _I_ won't be ending up in a jail before I'm sixteen." Peter's eyes narrowed and his friends sitting behind him glared at the smirking girl.

"You know what, I'm done with you. I don't have to stand here arguing with some girl that doesn't know a thing about this city." Peter turned his back to her, but Olly wanted the last word.

"Or are you sure you don't want to lose to someone who's actually right?" Peter stopped and whirled around to face Olly.

"You know nothing," Peter repeated as he glared at her. Olly returned the glare with a steady stare of her own.

"I know enough." That was the final straw for Peter. He roared in anger and lunged for Olly. But before he could hurt her, the tall blond grabbed Peter by the arms and was struggling to keep hold of the shorter boy. Alice and the light brunette ran up to the scene, worry showing clearly on their faces.

"Peter!" The resisting boy stopped and stared at the speaker in surprise and a hint of embarrassment.

"Wendy! I-"Peter was cut off as the light brunette glared at him and put up her hand.

"I don't want to hear it. I saw the whole ordeal and heard some of the things said, and while I think you were both out of line, you don't try to hit a girl. Look at her, she's new and doesn't have any clue of what actually goes on in Fantasia. Are you all right, dear?" Olly looked up in surprise at Wendy before, and if as on cue, bursted out into tears.

"Oh, I'm so glad you stopped him. I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life," Olly said through her 'sobs'. Peter and the blond boy stared in disbelief at Olly. Wendy gave her a sympathetic look and patted her shoulder.

"Don't worry about Peter. I'm sure he'll never bother you again. Come on, Olly, why don't you sit with Alice and me." Wendy ushered Olly away while Alice raised an eyebrow at the boys before following the two. Olly, while drying her tears, gave Peter a smug look before looking innocent again.

"Golly, she was faking it the whole time," Pinocchio breathed and Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know. And now Wendy's mad at me. Could this day get any worse?" The trio was silent for a moment before Peter sighed and pulled out another cigarette.

"You know…she's a pretty good actor," the blond boy spoke up and Peter glared at him.

"…Shut it, Arthur."

* * *

"…But, sir, I won't use any names, I just want to get personal interviews with those that are willing and I won't print their names. All's I need it a place they usually spend time at. Nothing else." Vivian repeated for the fourth time since her meeting with Captain Phoebus started. And it wasn't working.

"You think that the police know where they reside at? Hell, we can't even catch anyone that associates with these bootleggers. Alls we've got are accounts of sightings down at the coast," the police captain said, leaving out the previous night, when by the time the police got there, alls that was left was a couple of empty crates and nothing else. Vivian studied the older man, not believing a word he said.

"You're worried that they could form a gang, and then not only would you have to deal with the bootlegging, you'd have to deal with gangsters," she mused and Phoebus sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Insightful, aren't you Ms. West?"

"Living in higher society forces you to look past the person you're talking to. That, and New York also has plenty of its own problems." Phoebus thought for a moment before sighing and shaking his head.

"Look, Ms. West, if you really want to find anything on these bootleggers, I suggest talking to someone that would actually know something. Like someone that stands on a corner." Vivian's face had a look of mild disgust and Phoebus chuckled. "Don't look like that, Ms. West. You can try all you want to stop prostitution, but it'll always find a way around the law. Then maybe you can find out where a speakeasy is or something like that." Vivian nodded and jotted some things down into her notebook before standing and holding out her hand.

"Thank you for your help, Captain. I sincerely hope that you'll be able to succeed in stopping the bootlegging." Phoebus shook her hand and held the door open for her.

"Oh, and Ms. West, if you do find anything out, you won't be hesitant to let the police know. It's only fair." Vivian looked down and fiddled with her skirt before looking back at the Captain.

"Of course. It's only fair."

* * *

A tall African-American man leaned against the balcony of his hotel room, watching the bustling of Fantasia City below him. Dr. Facilier smirked as the people hurried to wherever they were going, unsuspecting of the things he had planned for this city. After he took care of the problem Grimhilde's friend had.

He had spoken to the beautiful women earlier that afternoon, who had filled him in on the situation. Facilier already know how to take care of the problem, but he was told that he should wait until her friend gave a go. Which was fine by him; it gave him more time to have _fun_. Speaking of fun, he realized, it was almost time for the night live of Fantasia City to come out. Grabbing his cane and top hat along with a deck of cards, Dr. Facilier stepped out of his room and headed down the hallway, whistling a jazzy tune.

After all, no one in Fantasia City had heard of The Shadow Man.

* * *

Gah! Finally done! Yep, laziness is a contagious disease, but I fought through it and here it is, the finished chapter two.

Uh…sorry about the dialog between Peter and Olly. I at first thought it was pretty good, but now I'm not so sure. Sorry for any OOCness. And no, I'm not planning on it being a Peter/OC. WENDY/PETER FOREVAH!1! XD

And next chapter, Vivian meets her first prostitute and bootlegger, while Olly gives acting lessons and tries to become a doctor's assistant.

1920's Slang 

**Mrs. Grundy**- A priggish or extremely tight-laced person

**Butt me**-I'll take a cigarette

**Don't know from nothing **- don't have any information


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own.

* * *

"Hey, Meg, would ye be willin' to do me a favor?" A woman with long brown hair and cat-like violet eyes glared at the speaker.

"I've told you already, John, I'm off duty. Try again later tonight," she said in a bored tone and the man she was talking to chuckled.

"I wasn't talkin' about that. See that woman sittin' over by the window?" Meg looked to where John Silver, owner and chef of the diner she was currently sitting in, was pointing. They stared at a brunette woman, barely younger than Meg herself, who was looking out the window, her blue-gray eyes following the citizens of Fantasia City.

"Yeah, so what, John." John leaned forward and motioned for Meg to do as well. Meg rolled her eyes and leaned her chin on her hand in an irritated like motion.

"That there is Vivian West." When no reaction came from the Greek-American, John sighed. "She's a new reporter looking for the scoop about the bootleggin'."

"So? We've had several blow through town and find nothing. What's the difference? Aside from the fact that this reporter's female." Yes, Megara Dimitriou was all too familiar with the male reporters looking for a big lead on the big 'who dun it' crimes and murders. And let's not forget the big tourist attraction, bootlegging. By the time they got to Meg, they had given up and decided to use on of the…services Meg provided.

"Nothin', aside from the fact that I heard she's from a rich family and brought her kid sister with her." Meg shrugged, not even listening. She instead was watching as Hercules Nicoli walked in. He caught Meg's eye and gave her a shy smile. Meg blushed faintly and turned away, almost hitting John's face, which suddenly appeared next to hers. The older man smirked and Meg scowled.

"Well, that's all dandy, but I don't care. And quite frankly, I have no clue why you're telling me this." John shrugged and started wiping the counter.

"I just thought ye should know since I think ye should go over and talk to her." Meg looked at him before she started laughing loudly. The few in the diner, including Vivian, looked over at Meg. Meg covered her mouth and in a few moments, faced John.

"Oh, Silver, you _slay_ me. I honestly thought you were being serious." When no smile came, Meg sobered up. "You were just kidding, right?" No answer. "Oh come on John!" she whined. John gave her a look and Meg huffed. "Fine. But only because I like you."

Vivian had turned back to watching people walk by after that one woman had started laughing. _My,_ Vivian thought, _she was dressed awfully fancy. I wonder…_She was brought out of her thoughts when someone approached her table.

"Hey." Vivian looked up and saw it was the same woman she'd been wondering about.

"Uh...Hello?" Vivian wasn't sure how to respond. Not many in this city seemed to like her. It was like they knew who she was. So when this new stranger came to talk to her, she wasn't sure how it was going to be.

"Name's Meg." And before Vivian could introduce herself, Meg spoke again. "And I already know who you are. Vivian West. The city's been abuzz with your arrival." Well, that only confirmed Vivian's suspicions.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Meg. Will you please take a seat?" Meg snorted in an unladylike manner and plopped down in a chair. She pulled out a cigarette and raised an eyebrow at Vivian.

"You mind if I light my ciggy, Viv?" Again, before Vivian could address Meg, someone else spoke up.

"I mind, Megara. Ye know I don't like smoking in my diner." John gave her a look and Meg rolled her eyes and put the cigarette away.

"Silver's such a downer, don't you think, Viv. Anyway, I thought you were looking lonely over here, so I decided to bring you some company." Vivian didn't believe this, but she let it go.

"Thank you, but I was just on my way to be leaving actually." Vivian started gathering her stuff, which consisted of a small notebook and a pencil that had been chewed on. Meg frowned but shrugged indifferently.

"Whatever. You must be having such luck on getting the big scoop on the bootlegging, huh?" Vivian paused in gathering her things before she resumed.

"Well, you know, I've only been her for a few days, so—"Vivian was cut off when Meg slammed a hand down and leaned forward. Vivian stared at her with wide eyes and Meg smirked.

"See that muscular guy with the orange hair over there?" Vivian followed Meg's pointed finger before nodding. "Yeah, he's a bootlegger." Vivian whipped her head around and stared at Meg.  
"You're not taking me for a sap, are you?" Vivian demanded and Meg shook her head, for once actually being sincere in her actions.

"I may be a lot of things, but I'm being completely honest with you." Vivian still didn't look quite convinced and Meg sighed before grabbing the younger woman's wrist.

"Come on, we're going to talk to him. Then you'll believe me." Vivian sputtered and tried resisting as Meg pulled (dragged) her through the diner.

"Meg! I can't just do that! What if I become a name on his employer's hit list or something?" Meg snorted and looked back at the stubborn woman.

"Please, Viv, that wouldn't happen. Name one journalist that's happened to." Vivian quieted down for a moment and Meg smirked triumphantly.

"Walter Jennings, Melvindale, Michigan." Meg frowned and glared at the journalist, who only smiled smugly at her.

"Um, Meg?" Meg whirled around and looked down at the man who spoke her name. He had a look of confusion on his face and was trying to see who was behind Meg.

"Oh, hey, Herc. How are you?" Meg asked. Hercules raised an eyebrow before shrugging.

"Pretty well, I guess. Been busy, you know. And you?" Meg gave him a smile, making Hercules blush. If she noticed, she didn't let on as she stepped closer to the man of Greek descent.

"Great! Hey, do you mind if I introduce you to someone? 'Course ya don't!" she said cheerfully without letting Hercules answer. "This," she said as she jerked Vivian forward to stand next to her. Vivian gave a surprised cry and caught herself before she fell onto the supposed bootlegger. "Is Vivian West. I'm sure you've heard of her." Upon seeing Hercules confused face, she elaborated. "She's the journalist from New York. And she has some questions for you!" Vivian looked at him and gave a sheepish smile.

"I don't need your name or anything. Just some basic information," Vivian said, using the same line she had used at the police station. Hercules looked around nervously and stood up.

"Um, I'm sorry, but, uh, I can't help you. Sorry!" He made a move to leave, but Meg intercepted him.

"Oh, come on, Herc. It won't hurt anyone to just answer some questions. This will be in a New York City paper. No one here will see it. So just relax and sit down and help a girl out by answering some questions," she said smoothly and gently pushed him back into the chair he was sitting in. Hercules opened him mouth and then closed it, a blush fully consuming his face. Being this close to the girl he really, _really_ liked was something he didn't know how to handle.

"I..."Hercules looked up at Vivian and then at Meg before looking again at Vivian. "Fine. I'll answer some questions. Promise no names though?" Vivian gave him a smile and nodded her head. Hercules felt slightly better and prepared for the questions as Vivian flipped her notebook to a fresh page and took a seat across from him.

"Okay then. What got you into bootlegging…"

An hour later, Vivian was satisfied and slightly excited to start typing her article. She was thanking Hercules profusely. Hercules just smiled and nodded his head. Just then, a man with long brown hair and light green-blue eyes, stepped into the diner. When he found Hercules, he made a hand motion for him to come. Hercules, seeing this, stood up.

"Sorry, ladies, but I have to go. Something to do with, ahem, work." Vivian nodded and bid goodbye. Meg, not pleased, half-heartedly waved goodbye. Hercules hesitated to leave and started to head out before he turned back.

"Meg, could I, um, well you see..."he trailed off, but at the look that Meg gave him, continued. "May I take you out sometime?" Meg blinked at stared at him before a blush spread across her cheeks.

"S-Sure. Though preferably during the day." Hercules nodded and gave Meg a bright smile before he ran out the diner, followed by his impatient companion. Meg stared after him, a dreamy look on her face. Vivian noticed this and giggled, breaking Meg out of her stupor. She glared at Vivian, who only laughed harder.

"You, my friend, have it _bad_," she said through her giggles. Meg rolled her eyes but gave a small smile. Yeah, she mused, she did have it bad.

* * *

"Jiminy! Where've you been, Herc?" John exclaimed once said man and Tarzan, better known as Jungle Man, entered the warehouse. Hercules scratched the back of his head sheepishly before he looked around.  
"Say, is the boss here yet?" John shook his head and Hercules gave a sigh of relief. Tarzan crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"So again, I ask, where were you?" John asked (more like demanded). Hercules shrugged his shoulders.

"At Silver's diner. I was hungry and it was the nearest restaurant. Relax guys, it's not like I was talking to anyone I shouldn't be talking to." Hercules gave a nervous laugh and John turned to Tarzan.

"Who was he talking to when you came to get him?" Tarzan had to stop and think. He'd seen Herc talking to two women, but he was more focused on getting the youngest of all the men back to the warehouse.

"That one prostitute that turned Hercules' eye…Meg, I think. And a female I haven't seen around Fantasia before." John hummed and turned to Hercules. Hercules was fiddling with the edge of his fedora and avoiding all eye contact. By that time, Adam, Phillip, and Shang had joined the group and were all staring at Hercules.

"Alright! I was talking to that journalist, Vivian West." A collective gasp came from the men and they stared at Hercules as if he had committed some sort of taboo, which, considering the time and place with which they lived, he basically had. "But it's alright, guys! She promised no names and I trust her," Hercules muttered that last part and John raised an eyebrow.

"What was that?" Hercules sighed and looked at a pile of crates holding their current shipment.

"I trust her. I get an earful of how journalists are agents of the devil, but there are a few that are harmless, like Viv." John gave a laugh, though he was clearly not amused. Hercules then looked up at John, panic filling his face. "You're not going to tell Clopin, are you?"

"No," John answered after a long pause. "I won't, because, I mean what can we do about Vivian West? Kill her? That's a horrible idea and...she is only doing her job. But you," he said, pointing at Hercules, "better pray to God or Zeus or _whoever_ you worship that he doesn't find out!" Hercules nodded fervently, taking the advice to heart.

* * *

Olly was once again staring at the decent sized building where the doctor's office was stationed. She sighed and looked down at the bag of groceries in her hand. Vivian would murder her if she didn't get home to put the groceries up. Not like she'd notice though, Olly realized, since she's cooped up in her room typing furiously on her typewriter. Olly gave one last look at the building before she started to walk away.

"Oi! Why the long face?" a voice asked from behind the ebony haired girl and Olly cringed outwardly. She didn't even need to turn around to know who it was talking to her.

"Ugh, what do you want, Peter? I'm not bothering you," Olly stated and turned around, seeing that Peter was with his pals, Pinocchio and Arthur. Peter shrugged and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on your acting skills. Those tears had Wendy and Alice pretty convinced." Olly frowned and shifted the bag of groceries to her other hand.

"Thank you?" she said, unsure of how to answer. Man, this Peter guy was extremely weird, she decided.

"Truce?" he suddenly asked, sticking out his hand. Olly stared at it and then stared at the red head before she slowly shook his hand.

"Didn't know we were fighting," she said and dropped his hand. "So, now that that's taken care of, I need to leave; I don't want these groceries to spoil. My sister wouldn't be very happy," she muttered and started heading down the street. Peter looked at his friends and motioned for them to follow.

"Where did you learn to act like that?" Peter asked and Olly looked surprised to see him suddenly walking right next to her before looking back down the street.

"A few years ago, I decided I want to act on Broadway. My father hired a few actors to teach me some basic things. I kept that dream up for a good three years before I decided I wanted to be a doctor. But that didn't mean I didn't come out of those lessons without some useful skills." Peter nodded before he grinned.

"Well, how'd you like to put those skills to use and teach them to us?" Olly furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Peter like he was crazy.

"You're serious? Why would a group of guys like _you_ need acting skills? Trying to fool your folks or something when you've missed the curfew?" she snorted and sped up her walk. Peter frowned and caught up to her.

"I am serious. Look, I can pay you if you want." Olly laughed humorlessly at that and gave Peter a roll of her eyes.

"You do know who you're talking to, right?" Peter realized what she meant and rubbed the back of his neck before he got an idea.

"You said you wanted to be a doctor and I saw you staring at Doctor Sweet's office. I know Sweet personally. So how about you give us the lessons and I'll see if Sweet needs any help around the office." Olly mulled this over before nodding her head slowly.

"Alright. I'll do it." Peter smiled triumphantly at his friends. "But you got homework. You need to practice keeping your emotions in check. Like you, Blondie," she gestured to Arthur, "You wear your emotions quite clearly on your face. Think of dead puppies or something sad. Once you all have a perfect blank face, you'll be able to go far. And read up on your Shakespeare. There's some genius stuff right there. I'll see you guys in a few days for your real lesson." And with that, Olly left the group of guys as she entered the apartment building. Peter and the others stared after her before looking at each other.

"...You heard the lady. Let's go read some Shakespeare." The trio headed off to the library.

* * *

Wild laughter and loud music surrounded Captain Rourke. Currently sitting inside the speakeasy of his friend (If he'd call her that) Madame Medusa. It was a shack out in the sticks beyond the city limits of Fantasia. It was low lit and seedy and perfect for a man like himself, he thought as he took a drag on his cigar.

"Good evening, Lyle," an obese woman with a lavender tint to her skin greeted the silver haired man. Lyle nodded politely as he stood up.

"Evening Ursula. And how are you on this fine night?" Ursula gave a throaty chuckle and took the seat across from Rourke, who followed in suite.

"Wonderful. I was here to meet Jafar, but he backed out at the last moment. So instead I brought Vanessa," she said, motioning to a beautiful young woman with dark hair and violet eyes who was talking to John Clayton, a hunter that had hunted all around the world.

"Ah, your daughter is growing more and more beautiful by the day." Ursula nodded in agreement at the comment made about her adopted daughter. The two sat in a silence, nursing their drink.

"How are things going with Trouillefou? I heard that you've been having some... problems," Ursula commented and the former Army Captain gritted his teeth. Even hearing the name of his competition was enough to set him off.

"Fine. We've found a solution to the problem. It's only a matter of time until I've taken control of all bootlegging trafficking in Fantasia." Ursula looked slightly surprised but didn't comment. Yes, Lyle thought and smirked, he'd have all control. After all, the best comes to those that wait.

* * *

...Hi. I know that I haven't updated this since more than a year ago. And I'm sorry. No excuses for why I didn't. But I'm honestly going to try to be better at updating this.

This chapter was so-so for me. I had fun writing the first half (BTW, Meg and Hercules' last names are made up) but then the second half was okay, I guess. And those acting tips Olly gave...I'm a dancer not an actress, so I kinda made those up. Not about Shakespeare, though.

To _DisneyPrincess_, I don't know if you'd still read this because it's been forever, but I thank you for your reviews. And knowing '20's lingo is cool, no matter what anyone says. :D

To anyone else reading, if you have any suggestions of Disney characters to be added or make a cameo, let me know, I'd be happy to do it!

1920's Slang 

_You Slay Me_- that's funny

_Ciggy_- Cigarette

_Sap_- Fool


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